


To the Brink

by whataflammableheart



Series: To (Not) Be So Lonely [2]
Category: Glee
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Bram and Klaine are only mentioned, Brittany just wants everyone to make out, But only a little bit? - Freeform, Crushes, First Kiss, Friendship, M/M, Sam isn't straight, Set during season 4
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-07
Updated: 2020-11-07
Packaged: 2021-03-09 04:02:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,220
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27428353
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whataflammableheart/pseuds/whataflammableheart
Summary: Sam doesn't do complicated.
Relationships: Blaine Anderson/Kurt Hummel, Blaine Anderson/Sam Evans, Sam Evans/Brittany S. Pierce
Series: To (Not) Be So Lonely [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2008138
Comments: 8
Kudos: 55





	To the Brink

**Author's Note:**

> Just a silly little reimagining of Blam addressing Blaine's crush because Sam has heaps of sweet bisexual energy and way more romantic chemistry with Blaine than with any of his love interests on the show imo. Some day maybe I'll write the polyamorous Sam/Blaine/Kurt romance that's been living in my head for months.
> 
> (ps I lifted some dialogue from Guilty Pleasures bc I do Love that scene I just always want everything to be gayer)

Blaine’s brow furrowed a little in concentration and his mouth moved silently around the shape of a sentence he was reading. He was holding a red pen loosely between his fingers, tapping it against his folded knee. Sam’s palms were damp where they touched the history textbook in his lap. His chest felt tight. He’d tried telling himself there was nothing to be nervous about, but it wasn’t working.

The college essay Blaine was proofreading was Sam’s, and the descriptions of his family’s experiences were more personal than anything Sam had ever written. But Sam trusted Blaine to be gentle and honest in his feedback, and not to pry further than Sam was comfortable with. He trusted Blaine so easily that he didn’t think the essay could be the real reason his stomach was knotting up.

Sam had never had a friend like this, one who he could be vulnerable with without fear of judgment. Maybe it was the gay thing. Maybe it gave Blaine super-sensitive friend powers.

Actually, “the gay thing” was, if Sam was being honest, a much more likely explanation for the nerves. Well, not _the_ gay thing, as in Blaine being gay, so much as gay things in general.

Yesterday, while they were making out in Brittany’s bed, she had stopped abruptly.

“You’re into Blaine Warbler,” she said, as if it was nothing. She was still pressing his shoulders to the bed, his hands resting on her ass. He laughed.

“No I’m not.”

“You are. I’ve seen the way you look at him when he sings, and you always watch his butt when he bends over.” Sam shook his head.

“Britt, I’m straight.” Brittany shrugged.

“Okay. But if you kissed him I wouldn’t mind.” She took Sam’s wrists from behind her and pinned them to the bed. “I think it would be hot.” Before Sam could process what she’d said she was kissing him again, and it was easy to turn off his brain and get lost in the push and pull rhythm of it. But when Sam got home that night the words she’d said were still there, impossible to forget.

“You okay?” Blaine was smiling at him, all gentle and sweet and unassuming.

“What?”

“You were kind of staring.” Sam shook his head, trying to clear it.

“Oh um–” He dropped his eyes to the essay in Blaine’s lap. “That’s a lot of red.” Blaine chuckled and stretched, unfolding his legs out in front of him on the floor and arching his back into the couch he was leaning against.

In the dim, amber light of Blaine’s family den Sam thought his best friend somehow looked more grown up than under the fluorescents at school, even though they were sitting on the floor together, papers messily spread around them. It was like the difference between seeing an animal in a cage at the zoo or in its natural habitat. All of the sharp pleats and tucks and cuffs made sense here.

“It’s great, Sam, really. You can take or leave any of my notes.” Sam swallowed and nodded. Blaine was so _good._ So kind and eager to help, seemingly with no ulterior motive. He just wanted to be needed and appreciated. And as far as Sam was concerned, those were easy things to give. Sometimes he wondered if it was too easy, to need Blaine.

He looked back down at his textbook and realized that once again he had no idea where he’d left off. The Cold War just didn’t make any sense to him, as far as he could tell it wasn’t even a war at all. Resigning himself to asking Blaine to summarize it later, he let his eyes slide over the words without absorbing their meaning.

_You’re into Blaine Warbler. I’ve seen the way you look at him when he sings._

It wasn’t like Sam had never found a guy attractive before. He knew hot when he saw it, and sometimes hot was a square jaw, a slim waist, and an impossibly round ass. But Blaine wasn’t just hot, he was also Sam’s best friend. Sam’s heartbroken, pining best friend who totally had a rebound crush on him. Sam loved Blaine, and that made it _complicated,_ in a way that Sam usually shied away from.

If Sam thought Blaine was hot, and also loved him, kissing him wouldn’t just be hot, like Brittany had said. It would _mean_ something. It would change his relationship with Blaine, it might change his relationship with Brittany, and it would probably mean he wasn’t straight after all. He refocused his eyes on the page he was staring at.

_Brinkmanship is the practice of pushing dangerous events to the edge (or brink) of disaster in order to gain an advantage._

Blaine nudged Sam’s leg with his toe. He was grinning, and his eyes were a little wet. Sam’s stomach swooped, suddenly afraid that he’d misjudged and Blaine would want him to _talk_ about what he’d written about.

“Sam.”

“Blaine?”

“I’m really proud of you.”

“Oh, um– thanks dude.” Guys weren’t supposed to be able to just _say_ things like that, Sam thought. But of course it was different with Blaine. They said things like that to each other all the time. Maybe it wasn’t the gay thing, maybe Blaine was just Blaine and Sam was just Sam.

“Do you want me to go over my notes with you? It’s mostly just grammar and spelling, but I had some ideas about reordering some of it to hit a little harder too. And just a couple things that might be unclear.” Sam looked down at the paper again, it really was _a lot_ of red.

“Yeah that would be great, thanks man.” Sam let his textbook fall shut, not bothering to mark his page, and crawled across the rug to sit next to Blaine.

“Okay, so I thought your second sentence was really strong, so I was thinking maybe you could cut this first sentence, or move it somewhere else.” Blaine kept talking but Sam found that he wasn’t listening.

He was thinking about how Blaine’s cologne smelled spicy like Christmas, and this time of day he always had a little bit of stubble and maybe he could grow a beard if he wanted to, which was pretty impressive for a high schooler, and whatever else it would be, kissing him _would_ be hot. And if Sam thought it would be hot, and Brittany thought it would be hot, and Blaine thought it would be hot (which Sam was reasonably confident he would), what was stopping him?

Without really meaning to, Sam leaned a little bit closer. Blaine stopped mid-sentence. He turned his head and Sam didn’t pull back, even though it meant their faces were only inches apart.

“Sam?” he asked, his voice a little higher than usual.

“Hey.”

“Um, hi.” Blaine’s eyes flickered down to Sam’s lips, seemingly against his will. It felt good, to be looked at like this. And Blaine’s lips were wet and pink and parted a little, and when Sam looked back up into his hazel eyes he knew that Blaine had seen him looking too.

Blaine leaned an inch further in. And when had Sam ever been able to resist a pretty person who wanted to be kissed? He closed the distance and reveled in the little gasp of air Blaine took, as if even with that lead up he was surprised this was happening.

Sam wasn’t one to overthink kissing. He was good at it, and he let instinct take over, responding to cues in Blaine’s movements and breath. Like dancing, like breathing, like playing guitar. But not like any of those things at all.

Blaine was good at it too, confidently matching Sam’s give and take of tongue and teeth, a hand pressed firmly to the back of Sam’s neck. Sam had been right, it _was_ hot. Desperately, achingly hot. Blaine straddled his lap and Sam groaned into the new angle, throat arched up, Blaine’s other hand raking through his hair. He slid his own hands up Blaine’s thighs, gripping his tight, perfect ass. Blaine sighed and ground down into Sam’s lap and.

Oh.

That was different.

They were both hard. Of course they were. They were horny teenagers making out on the floor. But the press of their erections together sent a jolt of something through Sam. Arousal and also.

This was different. This was complicated. This was Blaine, and for all that he loved bowties and show tunes and arts and crafts, he was undeniably a boy. Masculine in the ways he loved, communicated, argued, performed. A boy who Sam loved. A boy who was still in love with Kurt. A boy who wasn’t Sam’s girlfriend.

Sam pulled back and dropped his forehead to Blaine’s shoulder, squeezing his eyes shut. They were both breathing hard. He felt Blaine freeze above him. The words he had read earlier, half-remembered, flashed through his mind.

_Pushing events to the edge of disaster._

“Sam?” His hand, which had been firm on the back of Sam’s neck, went soft and gentle, carding through the hair at the base of his skull. “Are you okay?”

Sam didn’t know what to say. When he didn’t respond, Blaine climbed off of him, giving him a little space, but not too much. He kept his hand on Sam’s shoulder, as if he somehow knew that Sam needed to be touched right now. Goddamn perfect Blaine, always anticipating every need, being whatever he thought Sam or Kurt or his parents or whoever wanted him to be.

“You’re such a good person,” Sam said, because it was true.

“What?” Blaine was caught off guard. “No I’m not, I–” He paused. “What’s going on, Sam?” Sam looked up.

“That wasn’t a good idea, was it?” Blaine frowned, but didn’t respond. “I mean, it was hot,” Sam clarified. “But you’re still in love with Kurt.”

“And you’re dating Brittany.”

“Right.” Sam paused. “Well, actually I’m pretty sure she’d be fine with it.”

“Because I’m a guy?”

“I don’t know. She just said she wouldn’t mind.” Now Blaine looked even more confused than before.

“You talked to her about– about kissing me?” Sam shrugged, like it was no big deal.

“She brought it up.”

“What? Why?” Blaine had let his hand fall from Sam’s shoulder and Sam missed the weight of it.

“I don’t know. I guess she thought I was into you?”

“But you’re straight.” Sam laughed.

“That’s what I said too.”

“I’m single. _Kurt_ broke up with _me. I’m_ not cheating.” Blaine didn’t say _this time,_ but Sam could see him thinking it, and his arms screamed to hug him.

“Of course not, that’s not what I meant. Just that you might be, like, rebounding? And I guess I liked the attention? It felt good. I mean I’m an attractive dude and you’re into guys, I’d be offended if you _weren’t_ into me.” Sam was going for lighthearted and silly, but Blaine just looked a little devastated.

“You could tell? That I–?”

“Have a crush on me? Yeah, man. I’ve known all year.”

“I’m sorry.” Blaine folded in on himself a little, back against the couch, forearms pressed to bent up knees, eyes down. Sam surged forward, touching Blaine’s shoulder.

“No, dude, what? What are you apologizing for?”

“I didn’t want you to know. I didn’t want be creepy or predatory or anything or make you uncomfortable–” Sam cut him off.

“Blaine, it’s fine, you’re fine. I’m not uncomfortable. _I_ just kissed _you.”_ Blaine looked up at him.

“Yeah. Um, why?”

“Oh, um. I wanted to?” Blaine just looked at him for a long moment, like he was trying to put together a puzzle without all the pieces.

“But you just said you were straight.”

“Right, well. I might not be totally right about that. I haven’t really thought about it. I _didn’t_ think about it which was the problem because now I _have_ thought about it and I’m realizing this is all really complicated, with Kurt and Britt and, like, me maybe being kind of straight, and it probably isn’t a good idea because I love you, dude, and I don’t want to screw this up.” Sam wasn’t sure that anything he’d said made any sense at all, but Blaine was nodding slowly, which he hoped was a good sign.

“So you’re attracted to me, and I’m attracted to you, but you want to keep things platonic because our friendship is more important to you than fooling around.” Sam let out a breath. Blaine did this sometimes, taking all of Sam’s scattered thoughts and organizing them into a neat conclusion. It was mostly for his own benefit, Sam knew, just making sure he understood what was being said, but it made Sam feel safe and calm. Like all of his tangled thoughts weren’t so tangled, after all.

“Well when you put it like that, it doesn’t even sound that complicated.” Blaine laughed. “Is that okay?”

“Yeah, I–” Blaine bit his lip. “I can respect that.” Sam smiled, relief spreading through him.

“Cool. Now can you start over with explaining all your little teacher notes? ‘Cause honestly, I wasn’t paying attention at all.” Blaine rammed his shoulder into him.

“Jerk,” he muttered, but his wide grin softened the blow.


End file.
